GODOWSKY'S LEFT HAND / HENRI SIGFRIDSSON Piano Recital / Review

 

GODOWSKY’S LEFT HAND 

HENRI SIGFRIDSSON Piano Recital 

Conservatory Orchestral Hall 

Wednesday (5 March 2025),

This review was published in The Straits Times on 7 March 2025 with the title "Henri Sigfridsson offers voice and shade in works for left hand".

Concert pianists specialising in works for the left hand along are a special breed. Many do it out of necessity, such as Americans Leon Fleisher and Gary Graffman who suffered from focal dystonia, or the Austrian Paul Wittgenstein whose right arm had to be amputated following war injuries. 

Finnish pianist Henri Sigfridsson, however, does it simply because he can, with the first half of his recital being for left hand alone. A repertoire staple is Johannes Brahms’ transcription of the Chaconne in D minor from Johann Sebastian Bach’s Violin Partita No.2. Piano-fanciers will know Ferruccio Busoni’s famous version for both hands, however Brahms’ leaner take is more faithful to the original source. 

By trimming off the fat, clarity was the result, with the violin’s sleek melodic lines articulated with transparency by Sigfridsson. His instinctive ability to voice and shade the music was admirable, and even when textures got more complex and cluttered, vision and pulse were never in doubt. 

Also familiar were Alexander Scriabin’s Prelude and Nocturne (Op.9), composed after straining his right hand from over-practicing. While the former was chaste in textural simplicity, the latter was a ravishing love song, its Chopinesque melody sung above over harp-like accompaniment and climaxing in a fiendishly dizzying cadenza. 

The art of making one hand sound like two came to full fruition in Leopold Godowsky’s 53 polyphonic rearrangements of Frederic Chopin’s Etudes. Of these densely-packed finger-twisters, he wrote 22 for left hand alone, earning him the moniker “Disciple of the left hand”. Sigfridsson played five of these, warming up with No.44 in F minor and No.45a in D flat major, both based on Chopin’s lesser-known Trois Nouvelles Etudes (Three New Etudes). 

Even in these “simpler” numbers, Sigfridsson unlocked their secrets with consummate ease. Then came the heavy duty studies. No.22 in C sharp minor is based on the fiery Revolutionary Etude (Op.10 No.12), where he almost came unstuck but soldiered on to an emphatic conclusion. 

The tender melody of No.5 in D flat major (after Op.10 No.3) was retained, but its central section saw a departure in thematic material with its own inherent difficulties ingeniously sorted out. The set concluded with No.43 in C sharp minor (after Op.25 No.12), where Sigfridsson’s thunderous response to the so-called Ocean Etude’s relentless waves of sound was wholly appropriate. 

The second half saw both hands united for three pieces from Franz Liszt’s ten-movement cycle Harmonies poetiques et religieuses (Poetic and Religious Harmonies). Benediction de Dieu dans la solitude (Benediction of God in Solitude) highlighted the left hand’s baritone melody sung over the right hand’s filigreed accompaniment. 

This most sublime of essays then shifted to the tolling bells of Funerailles, where mourning gave way to the left hand’s octave stampede, supposedly simulating the Polish cavalry charge in memory of Chopin. Cantique d’amour (Song of Love), which closed the set, was the triumph of wondrous melody. 

A departure from all that barnstorming, Sigfridsson’s sumptuously-voiced encore of Jean Sibelius’s The Spruce (Op.75 No.5) from The Trees put intimacy ahead of bluster.

Post concert: Henri Sigfridsson
meet with Natalie Ng & Clarisse Teo.

HENRI SIGFRIDSSON Piano Recital / Review

HENRI SIGFRIDSSON Piano Recital

Yong Siew Toh Conservatory 

Orchestral Hall

Monday (27 February 2023)

 

The problem with lunchtime recitals is that one never makes it on time, especially when its begins at 12.15 pm, instead of the usual 12.30 pm (cutting it real fine) or 1 pm (much more realistic). This was why I missed the first two works of Finnish pianist Henri Sigfridsson’s recital, which included an arrangement of Mozart’s Magic Flute Overture (from its publisher, not Busoni) followed by the Sonata in B flat major (K.570). I got to hear the sonata’s final movement from the corridor and noted its lightness, good grace and humour, which I later learnt was thematically linked with the Overture’s overall light-hearted disposition.

 

Just consider oneself fortunate to have witnessed what must be the Singapore premiere of Finn Leevi Madetoja’s  suite Kuoleman Puutahar (Garden of Death, Op.41 from 1918). Madetoja (1887-1947) was a student of Sibelius’ and an important figure in the next generation of Finnish nationalist composers. He was celebrated for his three symphonies, two operas, and much vocal and choral music. However there was nothing particularly nationalistic about the work, written in the late Romantic idiom and filled with pleasant melodies and luscious harmonies.

 

Despite the title, there was no eerieness or macabre elements about the music either. Its three slow movements regard death as retiring and ultimately serene, with neither fear nor trepidation to be coutenanced. The Andante first movement opened with light chords, followed by right hand repeated figurations accompanying a wistful melody on the left hand. The middle movement Poco Lento had harmonies reminiscent of Grieg or Mompou leading into an elegant but melancholic waltz where Sibelius’ Valse Triste have been might be an influence. More chords heralded the final Sostenuto ma non troppo which turned out to be a calming berceuse or cradle song. Its gentle rocking rhythm and bell-like resonances, were just the perfect prelude to a gentle and eternal slumber. Oh Death, where is thy sting? Performed so sensitively and beautifully by Sigfridsson, this might just be the new discovery of the year so far, something completely befitting those rarities heard at Schloss vor Husum.  

 

The rest of the hour-long recital was devoted to Chopin. The Four Mazurkas Op.24 were as idiomatic as they come, the three-quarter time and rhythmic lilt judged to best effect. “Cannons in flowers” proclaimed the enthusiastic Robert Schumann, and major artillery was wheeled out for three of Leopold Godowsky’s fearsome polyphonic studies on Chopin’s Etudes. All three were written for left hand alone, opening with No.22, based on the Revolutionary Etude (Op.10 No.12, C minor), now cast in C sharp minor. How Sigfridsson managed with no diminution of velocity, volume and  power is a feat only he and the likes of M-A Hamelin can explain. No.5, a reworking of the tender Tristesse Etude (Op.10 No.3, E major) gained a new kind of depth when heard in D flat major. One supposed the left hand coped better with all those black keys.  

 

To close, No.43, based on the ferocious final etude (Op.25 No.12, C minor), sometimes known as Ocean because of its waves of arpeggios on both hands, now in C sharp minor, brought the unusual recital to a thunderous close. Breathtaking seems to be too mundane a word to describe what I had just witnessed. For the record, YST’s head of piano Albert Tiu played two of these some years ago, but with the right hand. As an encore, Sigfridsson went back to basis with Chopin’s Nocturne in E flat major (Op.9 No.2), with neither embellishments nor elaborations. Some things are best left alone, and this was how it should be.

Henri Sigfridsson with Albert Tiu,
Head of Piano Studies at YST,
both masters of the Chopin-Godowsky Etudes.